


Burning Hot

by embittered_ambition



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Falling In Love, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22989877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embittered_ambition/pseuds/embittered_ambition
Summary: "...You know, I'm actually starting to believe that myself."That I deserve better.His grin was almost blinding. Bruce tapped the bridge of his glasses, "I'm glad," he said sincerely."Yeah," Tony exhaled. Never let it be said that his voice was conspicuously breathy.(Or, how Bruce and Tony fell in love.)
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Tony Stark
Kudos: 58





	Burning Hot

Tony watched with wide eyes as the glittering rainbow of the Bifrost (Einstein-Rosen bridge) glittered in the sky, shooting down and down, quicker and quicker until it was utterly blinding, white spots beginning to form in his vision. He knew that staring was probably unhealthy, but he couldn’t help it.

“Wow,” Clint muttered, awed. Tony couldn’t help but agree.

Thor looked somber, holding onto Loki's skinny arm with a presumably bruising grip, judging by the slightly pained expression on the trickster's face. Though, of course it could just be the fact that he had lost his little invasion. 

With a loud roar, the coalescence of colors slammed into the soil, swallowing both of the Gods with ease. The last thing that they all saw was the poorly-masked terror in Loki's greenish-blue eyes.

He didn’t feel bad. None of them did, not the slightest bit. The bastard that had tried to take over Earth.

Yeah. Despite the fact that the sight of outer space will probably now cause him to hyperventilate, he was… glad, almost.

This was Earth’s wake up call. He saw those war-ships, so dark that they looked like mal-shaped blackholes, crystal clear. They will be back. They will.

They will slaughter them all if they don’t prepare. Earth will be utterly destroyed. Compared to Asgard, compared to wherever the hell those Chitauri originated from, humans were so outclassed and primitive that it wasn’t even funny.

_We aren’t ready._

But, there’s time. Tony now had the incentive to make sure that Earth was. It was sort of ironic, really. The Merchant of Death trying to save the world.

He rubbed his eyes, almost stumbling back as the Bifrost suddenly shot back up, and it, along with the two brothers, disappeared, as if it wasn’t there in the first place. The only evidence it left behind was the smoking, pattern-encrusted ground.

“Jarvis, you got that?” Tony murmured, lifting his wrist up slightly. His watch beeped.

“Yes, sir. Would you like to begin analysis?” Jarvis’ cultured voice was loud enough that Rogers stared at Tony, fascinated. 

The inventor hummed in assent.

The AI didn’t reply, but he knew that it was being done.

Almost all of the smoke on the ground was dissipated now. The Avengers glanced at each other awkwardly, and Tony fidgeted. Only Romanoff looked completely comfortable, but that was because she was a ninja lady. She could probably fit in anywhere.

There was a beat of uncomfortable silence.

“Okay, now can we get Shawarma?” Tony blurted, and everyone startled.

Barton snorted. His shoulders were inordinately relaxed. Perhaps it was because Loki was finally off-world, “You sure know how to break a silence, Stark.”

He gave him a sunny smile, “My speciality. But seriously, I’m starving. That’s— unless you all don’t want to come? More for me, I guess.”

Bruce's lips twitched, still wearing the baggy clothing that Tony let him borrow, "Sure. I'll come."

"Sounds interesting," Romanoff drawled, and the other spy twin shrugged. Wherever she went, he followed.

Rogers looked between them all helplessly as they stared at him for an answer, and he let out a sigh— a permissive smile quirking at his lips.

"Yeah, I mean. Sure." There was a pause, and a miniscule squint, "How are we going to get there though? Wasn't the streets flooded with alien guts last time I checked?"

There was a considering pause.

"Eh, we're the Avengers. We can handle it," Tony said, waggling his eyebrows.

Barton gave a short laugh, and walked towards the inventor, giving him a hearty pat on the back. Tony winced as it jostled his hurt shoulder.

"I like you," he grinned, and Natasha had a look of dawning horror on her face. She had the distinct look of oh-god-there-were-two-of-them.

Tony felt something warm and unfettered curl in his chest, something foreign as the newly coined Avengers looked at him with friendly eyes.

It was strange, it was different, but… it couldn't be said that the inventor didn't like it. Quite the opposite, really.

He decided to roll with it. 

"Let's go," Tony said decisively. 

They were stopped too many times to count for autographs. Him and Steve were both pretty chill about it, but the spy twins were decidedly uncomfortable with the new-found fame. It was pretty funny, actually, the way they stiffened conspicuously around children, their smiles growing increasingly strained.

It wasn't like anyone would notice though. Tony was just so familiar with press-smiles that he could see one from a mile away.

Bruce, on the other hand, looked like he was one second from either hulking out or having a mental breakdown. Tony intervened before the children could poke and prod at him any more.

The gratitude in his warm brown eyes made Tony's heart suspiciously lurch.

...Uh oh.

* * *

"I just… I just feel like I'm spiralling out of control. I can't— I can't—" Tony took in a sharp breath, before he wiped his face of all emotion. A habit. His fingers fidgeted against the fabric of the couch.

Bruce nodded understandingly, biting his lip, and Tony's gaze followed that subconsciously, "I completely get that. It's natural what you're feeling, Tony," he hesitated, "Do you have a therapist?"

He managed a shaky smile, "I thought you were my therapist."

"I mean it. I'm not a licensed professional. I can only do so much."

Tony pursed his lips, "... I don't know if I can trust anyone that completely," he admitted, and there was a strange tone to the words.

Because after all, despite his words, he was spilling his guts to the doctor. Bruce didn't seem to figure out the nuance though, and he frowned, eyebrows furrowed in a familiar way— when he's deep in thought.

It was probably not good that Tony had his facial expressions memorized.

He sighed, "I'll tell you what. You— you have good reasons for not trusting anybody. And… to be quite honest, in this line of work, there's very few people we can actually trust…" A pause, "Would it help if I share how I calm down from an anxiety attack?"

"Please?"

"Meditation. And lots of it. Breathing exercises, coping mechanisms. I learned a lot of them by necessity," he said, quite frankly.

Tony sat up a little, looking at Bruce with haunted eyes. He smiled slowly, a little broken, at the man in front of him, "Thank you," he whispered.

"No problem. I can teach you them, if you'd like. Actually, I recommend that you learn them at this point."

"Yeah… I was about to ask that. I kinda— I just want to get better, you know?" he shrugged, and Bruce had that overwhelmingly kind glint in his eyes. Tony was pretty sure he was about to have heart palpitations.

Bruce gave a soft smile, "I want you to get better too, Tony. You deserve better," he said quietly.

His mind blanked a bit, a haze of white noise cloaking him. He had a feeling he stared for a long second, before he inhaled a shuddering breath.

"...You know, I'm actually starting to believe that myself."

_That I deserve better._

His grin was almost blinding. Bruce tapped the bridge of his glasses, "I'm glad," he said sincerely.

"Yeah," Tony exhaled. Never let it be said that his voice was conspicuously breathy. 

* * *

"... Are those seriously dinosaurs?!" Clint's voice turned shrill. Another roar shook through New York, and there was a belated, faraway scream from below.

Tony stared. He stared some more, "What the f—"

Bruce suddenly burst through the door, eyes wide, voice strained, "Are those dinosaurs?!"

"Hey, that's what I just said!—"

"Why are you guys just standing there?! Suit up!" Natasha, ever the voice of reason, yelled. She was wearing her catsuit, along with bullet proof outerwear and multiple straps littered weapons. Steve marched in a second later, wearing his signature all-American uniform, his shield magnetized against his back.

Clint, Tony, and Bruce were shook out of their stupor almost immediately, and the former two took off, while the latter grimaced.

There wasn't much he had to do in order to… 'suit up'. He had pretty much everything with him already as the Hulk.

Within thirty seconds, Clint was stumbling in, shirtless, pulling up his uniform and buckling in the straps to the quiver, his bow in his right hand. Tony came out soon after, flying through the wide doorway with his suit. He hovered a bit, and Bruce had the distinct feeling he was smirking.

"Last one there does the dishes," he snarked, tone robotic through the suit.

And then, he was off, flying through the opening window, giving a jaunty little wave as he shot through the sky.

Bruce didn't suppress a smile. God, he lov—

"Well, uh, you heard him," he said quietly, though no less amused, and he walked towards the window, looked down, closed his eyes, and then jumped out.

His vision turned a blinding green before he was even close to hitting the ground.

* * *

Clint and Natasha glanced at each other, smirked, and took off— making their way towards the elevator, leaving Steve in the dust.

"Hope your bretheren won't mind arrows up their—!" Clint yelled, the last bit cut off as the elevator door closed. However, there was also the distinct sound of a yelp, presumably as Natasha kicked him in the shin.

He sighed, as always. It was almost as if they were children. Children with very competitive spirits and a tendency towards saving the world every week or so.

There was another ear-drum shattering roar, and Steve steeled himself, the exasperation disappearing in the face of conviction, and perhaps a little bit of weariness.

_Dinosaurs. Really?!_

He raced his way to the elevator, and luckily, it opened, closed, and lowered him down very quickly.

Steve was greeted with the sight of absolute chaos. Luckily, no one was in the streets, having run off by now— or forced out of the way by policemen, but… was that Tony on the Hulk's shoulders? And he was allowing that?

He smirked victoriously. There was most definitely a thing going on between the two of them, he 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 it.

* * *

"Yeahhh, smash em' big guy!" Tony crowed, and he had the pleasure of watching the Hulk give a shark-like grin, before smashing the Pterodactyl out of thin air, landing on the road with a squelch, before turning into a thick, iridescent black goo.

God, he hoped PETA won't be up their ass. They weren't even living… technically; just reanimated oil caches courtesy of their newest wizard or whatever they call themselves these days. Mage? Sorcerer?

He missed the days when he could delude himself that magic was advanced science. This was just much too weird to even have an explanation, and these so called "magicians" were much too stupid to preform these feats without any sort of help.

Like, come on, was that dude actually wearing a robe?! That's so Dark Ages.

"You will all kneel before me!" he bellowed, and Tony let out a sigh.

"Sorry, Dumbledore. Not my sort of thing." He shot a repulsor, and he dodged it. Ugh, "And what is it with you villains and basically copying Reindeer Games word for word? I feel like he's the only original one we've had."

"I can't believe I have to say this, but agreed. I kinda miss him," Clint grumbled, and there was a familiar twang of the drawstring as he shot an arrow.

Another squelch as a whole boatload of oil rained down from the sky.

The man actually 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘥. It clashed horribly with his tacky orange robes, "FIREMAN IS MOST DEFINITELY ORIGINAL!" he roared, shooting off another torrent of flames, and the oil lit on fire for a split second, before it sputtered out.

Guy couldn't even keep the oil flammable through the transformation. Tony didn't know much about magic, but he was sure that that was a sign of weak magic.

The inventor sighed.

Was it bad that after the first villain they all fought, it went straight downhill? Maybe it was unethical of them to feel disappointed that every villain they fought was pretty much as weak as the average Joe.

But, cmon, anyone would be bored of battles that take five minutes. Tops. A couple every week of wannabes who think that they are all that and a bag of chips.

Another torrent of flames shot towards the inventor, and he circled out of the way, the HUD focusing on the man even through the bright orange.

"Yeah, that's gonna leave some property damage," Tony muttered, noticing the blackened scorch-marks on the buildings throughout the street.

He shot another repulsor, only at 50% power (he wasn't aiming to kill him) and it struck the man straight in the chest. He let out a pained cry, and curled in on himself, the fire swirling around them sputtering, before extinguishing entirely.

Natasha took that momentary distraction to tackle him, and wrap his wrists in magic-suppressing cuffs. There was a weak roar in the distance, before it was all quiet again. One of the wounded dinosaurs in front of him shuddered, before turning pitch black and melting onto the ground.

Tony refocused his attention back to the now sobbing man on the floor, who was whimpering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and over.

Bleh. Pathetic.

Tony rolled his eyes, and was about to let out a snarky comment, when the man suddenly shimmered, before blinking out of existence.

Natasha blinked, face blank, before she lurched up, taking a battle stance. It was still for a moment. Eerily silent, aside from the wind blowing in his ears and the mechanical beeps from the HUD.

Then, her eyes widened, and she seemed to be staring right behind him.

"BEHIND—"

Tony's world then lit up in fiery pain, and he screamed.

* * *

The world was a blur after that, of electronic beeping, urgent voices, a warm palm against his own, and most importantly… Bruce. Bruce's hand. Bruce's voice.

_"You can do it, sweetheart, just pull through. For me— please."_

A sob. Tony wanted to comfort him, he really did. The dark fog was so oppressive though, and he could feel himself being pulled away into oblivion once more.

" _Please Tony. I love you, please don't leave me."_

'He loves me,' Tony thought deliriously, and he attempted to reciprocate the phrase, to tell him that he loved him too, god he loved him, but it came out as an intelligible whimper.

"Tony?!" His voice was hopeful, pained.

It went unheard against the rush of darkness.

* * *

The beeping came back, and this time it was closer than ever, unmuddled. Not under water. Tony's eyes fluttered open, and he let out a whimper, the sheets underneath him ruffling as he shifted.

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and he inhaled a sharp, pained breath. His chest felt tight, constricted really. It was almost like his bones were closer together inside of him, choking him from the inside out. He looked down at himself, and he was simply in a flimsy gown. No bandages or anything of the sort in sight.

His body throbbed, shooting jolts of agony through his nerves like little blades. He whimpered again. A tear droplet sliding down his cheek onto the thin mattress below.

The beeping, the heart monitor, sped up noticeably, and Tony heard a little snuffle from right next to him.

He turned his neck slowly, eyes widening as he saw Bruce— Bruce halfway lying onto the table, sleeping. He looked like a mess: his hair greasy, skin pale, dark circles under his eyes.

_Oh god._

Guilt settled deep within Tony's abdomen. And that combined with the excruciating pain made the man burst into quiet tears.

It spilled without obstruction, and he tilted his head to the other side, futilely trying to lift his arm to wipe them away, but he couldn't. He couldn't move. Everything hurt.

It felt like every inch of his body was on fire, yet there were no marks to be found. Yes, his body was pinkened a bit, but it was no different from a particularly bad sunburn.

He's had plenty of those in Malibu. He knows what they felt like. This…this was different. It was thousands of times worse. It was not only skin-deep, and he could feel the burning throbs down in his very marrow.

The heart monitor skyrocketed, and Bruce let out another sleepy noise before it was silent.

Then, there was a grating sound of metal on floor, quick footsteps, and a soft hand gently settling against his shoulder. It made him gasp in pain.

"Tony?! Oh god, are you awake?"

Tony nodded stiffly. He stared at the wall, his vision fuzzy from the constant stream of tears.

"Tony? Tony? Say something, just say something. Please."

His throat worked, before he croaked out, "It hurts."

There was a beat of silence, before a gentle hand tilted his head to the other side. Despite the soft touches, it made him let out a groan. Bruce jerked his hand away as if he had been burnt.

Ha. Ironic.

"Wait— shit. What, what hurts?" Bruce pleaded, his worried eyes staring into Tony's pained ones.

"Everything," he whispered, and Bruce let out a quiet noise of dismay.

The door then opened, and a nurse walked in, Bruce turned his attention to the woman, and he said, "Get Thor. It's worse than we thought."

She looked searchingly at the two of them for a moment, before nodding, and striding away— presumably in search for the thunder god.

There was a beat of silence. Tony suddenly whispered, voice hoarse, "You love me… huh?"

Bruce blanched and he glanced down, fingers fidgeting against the headboard. He seemed to steel himself, "Uh, yeah. I do. You heard me?" he asked quietly.

Tony nodded shallowly, eyes bright— and not from the pain, "Yeah. I was pretty out of it, but…" He breathed through another wave of agony, body tensing before relaxing conspicuously. Bruce looked horrified, "It stood out to me," he said lamely.

There was a beat of uncomfortable silence, and Bruce cleared his throat. There was a slump to his shoulders, and Tony had a feeling he contributed to it— and not because of his state at the moment.

"And…for what it's worth, Iloveyoutoo," he said quickly, the words tumbling out of him.

Bruce stiffened, and his eyes lit up in unquestionable hope, before he whispered, "You don't have to say it back, Tony… I won't be butthurt if you don't feel the same."

"But I do," Tony said fervently, "I really do. God, Brucie, I— I love you."

Bruce didn't have a chance to reply before the nurse came back in, holding a small vial of green liquid. She uncorked it, before lifting it close to Tony. He eyed it suspiciously.

"This will treat the magic overload," she explained to Bruce, who nodded, relieved.

"Tony," he soothed, "You gotta drink this. It will help with the pain." His fingers carded through the inventor's hair, and he leaned into it.

"Magic overload?" he grunted, before the vial was pressed against his lips, and he was forced to swallow. It tasted like… grass. Not horrible, but not the best thing he's tasted. Not by a long shot.

He coughed, and he could already start to feel the effects. The pain seemed to ooze out of him, leaving his limbs feeling numb and languid. He felt oddly dull, like if he looked at himself right now he would appear gray. His eyes fluttered shut as his body started settling, exhaustion suffering his mind in a cotton fuzz. Without the pain, it was evident how tired he was.

He tried to crawl himself back into consciousness, back into awareness, but it was no use, and he was forcibly pushed into rest.

But… that was before he felt a brush of lips against his forehead, and a quiet, "Sleep well, love."

His lips quirked into a sleepy smile.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is probably very rushed, since I just wrote it in a couple of hours...
> 
> I would make it much longer to include actual relationship building but meh. I love the fluff :3
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy! <3


End file.
